Daemon and Damon Group Therapy
by Mjrn
Summary: Daemon and Damon are at it again...this time trying to deal with everyone else's problems but really, it's all about Daemon. Madness ensues when some very woeful characters appear seeking D&D's help. This one gets crazy. Please R&R we want feedback!


**Authors' Note: **This is supposed to be posted on ilfirinmorcath's account because she whined, but her account isn't fully activated, so I took it upon myself to post it. HOWEVER, it was written by both Mjrn and ilfirinmorcath. Enjoy and REVIEW.

**Disclaimer**: Daemon comes from Anne Bishop's Black Jewels Trilogy, Damon comes from L.J. Smith's Vampire Diaries, and Deymon and Daymon are from the vast depth of ilfirinmorcath's and Mjrn's minds. There are also references to other characters from named books.

Daemon and Damon's Group Therapy

Daemon organized the chairs into a full circle. "Do you think this'll be enough to fit them all?" he asked Damon.

"If not, we can just kick them out. Let them have their crisis elsewhere."

"Yeah," Daemon agreed. He glanced at his design once more and then looked at the clock. "It's almost time. Do you think they'll have a lot to say?"

"I think its mostly going to be the mediator," Damon said.

"Yes, and that must mean the mediator is extremely interesting."

"No, just self-centered."

"That also." Daemon stuffed his hands his in his pant pockets. "I've been alive for more than one thousand seven hundred years, and I think I have more trauma in my past than all of these patients combined."

"And I'm right there behind you on that one."

"That's why you're only Daymon #2. Anyway, are they here yet?"

The window slid open. Deymon let out a cry as he flopped over into the room. "Hi BFFs! I was just in the neighborhood--"

"Go away," Damon said with a groan.

"But you said anyone could--"

"Well, that doesn't imply…you," said Daemon.

"You don't deserve the title of 'anyone.' How can a thing be a person?"

"Besides, we don't have enough seats for you."

Deymon looked at the empty room. "But--"

"Just get out," Damon snapped.

"We're very straightforward, Daymon # 3. Why don't you understand what we are trying to tell you?"

"Duh--" Deymon started.

"Careful Deymon," Damon said, "there's smoke coming out your ears."

Just as Daemon opened his mouth to say something, his first patient walked inside. His jaw dropped. "Shit."

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

Damon suddenly found outside the window very interesting.

"Well, since you locked me out of the house, I have been organizing group therapy sessions to heal the pain you have inflicted upon me."

"Who's that--" Deymon asked

"If you value your pathetic life, you'll stay quiet," Damon warned.

"Wh-I didn't lock you out of the house; it was open the _entire _time."

Deymon looked at Daemon. "Why didn't you use the window?"

Daemon glared at him. "I was thinking about letting you stay here during my therapy session, but now you are definitely prohibited from listening to me."

"Ouch," Damon said with a wince.

Daemon returned his attention to Jaenelle. "Well, even so…you kept yelling at me."

"I kept yelling at you because I had a headache and you wouldn't stop telling me about your stupid woes-"

"That's it; we need a divorce."

"Welcome to Damon Springer, ladies and gentlemen. I am your host, Damon Springer. And this is the Joker," he said as he pointed at Deymon.

"There aren't enough seats here to accommodate you, Jaenelle. I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave," Daemon told Jaenelle. They stared at the woefully empty room.

"Do you hear crickets?" Deymon asked.

"And there aren't enough seats for you. I already told you that. Now get out. Get out right now. The door--the window--are both that way."

Damon sank into a chair and leaned back with a smile. "This would be a nice change," he said.

"Next. Where is my next patient?"

As Jaenelle stormed out of the room, she passed by another blonde. Daemon smiled genuinely. "Hello, there. Welcome to Daemon and Damon's Group Therapy. I am officially divorced as of two minutes ago." A man entered behind the woman. "Never mind."

"Daemon, Damon, Daymon--he's everywhere. Just everywhere. No wonder our marriage is crap, all you do is think about him."

Damon fell backwards off his chair. "Stefan? Elena?!"

"Oh, so _this _is why you're joining me today at my therapy session," said Daemon. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"It's complicated," Damon replied.

Stefan whirled around. "You!" he said, pointing dramatically at Damon.

"So this is your little brother? I imagined him to be…well, littler," said Daemon. "Perhaps you should start addressing him as 'big brother'?"

Damon glared at him quickly. Then he glared at Stefan. Then he turned to Elena. "Changed your mind? Found out about the thumb-sucking?"

"Mother Night! He still sucks his thumb?!" Daemon stared at Stefan with wide eyes.

"Daemon, we went over this last time. Try shutting up occasionally."

"I was occupied with my one thousand seven hundred years' worth of woe, thank you."

"Are you a vampire?" Stefan asked.

"I'm Hayllian. Too civilized for a vampire."

"Alien?" Elena cried. "Not only vampires and werewolves. Now aliens too!"

"N-n-no. I said Hayllian. Read a book sometimes." He put a hand to his forehead. "In addition to a difficult divorce, I have some…some-_thing _calling me alien. My woe only grows steadily."

"As my love for Damon ever since we separated," Elena broke in. "Please take me back."

"Okay," Damon said, pushing Stefan aside.

"Wait," Elena said as Damon took her hand. "I changed my mind. Stefan, my true love!"

"If that was Lucivar…"

Stefan took her other hand and pulled. Damon pulled back.

"Tug-o-war!" Deymon shouted from his lonely corner of the room. Daemon grabbed Damon by the shoulders and helped him pull back.

"Ow," Damon said as Daemon yanked on his arms.

"I'm trying to help. Stop your bitching."

Just then, Daymon appeared in the room. He pointed at Daemon. "I'm calling you out, you imposter!" he screamed.

"What? There aren't any seats left for you."

"That's beside the point. You took over my position as director."

"No, you mean dictator."

"No, I meant what I said; director."

"Okay, fine, you can be the director, and I will be the dictator."

"I'm joining their side!" Daymon shouted as he ran to Stefan.

"You're not a true Daemon," said Daemon.

"Or a Damon."

"Or a D-E-Y--"

"Shut up, Daymon # 3."

"We are so kicking your ass," Damon said. "You can't stop us; it's two real characters versus one real character and some deranged phony."

"Who's the phony?" asked Deymon.

"Another too deep of a concept for you."

"Deymon, lie down on the floor and be the line. Whoever steps on you first gets Elena."

Everyone stopped pulling Elena by the arms and began stomping on Deymon.

"Woe!" Deymon cried.

"That's my word!" Daemon whined. "You've no woe to speak of."

Deymon began to sob as Stefan smashed his head with a chair.

"You DARE assault a Daymon?" demanded Daemon, shooting darts at Stefan with his glare. "Daymons unite!" he shouted.

A line of Daymons formed. Damon growled and bared his fangs. Daemon assumed a dictatorial stance. Deymon picked his nose. And the fourth Daymon (whose name happens to be Daymon also) switched sides.

"I must remain true to the Daymons."

"You best run if you know what's good for you," said Daemon.

Stefan and Elena moved closer together. "Stefan, I'm scared."

"CHARGE!" Daemon shouted. For a moment, all anyone could hear was loud screams and a lot of fumbling around. Above these distractions, Daemon's orders rose loud and clear.

"Daemon," Damon yelled above the noise, "can you stop talking and help me? Ow!"

"For the good of the Daymons, I must stand aside and give you orders. Without them, you will never defeat the Daymon-assaulters."

"Assault?" Deymon gasped. He turned to Elena, who was pounding on him with a chair leg. "I charge you with assault!" Deymon cried, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"You idiot!" Damon screamed.

"Don't do anything without my permission!" roared Daemon. "That includes the attackers!"

"Yeah…listen to Daemon, little brother."

"Bite me!" Stefan shouted. "Oh wait, shit!" he screamed as Damon ran after him.

Deymon and Elena ensued in a slapping fight, while Daymon beat himself over the head with a nut cake pan because Daemon had ordered him to. Daemon, meanwhile, snacked on a nut cake.

"Okay, I'm bored now. You can all stop fighting. No, really, I'm serious. Stop fighting. And Stefan and Elena, they're no seats left for you, so you may leave."

Damon waved his hand. "Fine! Just go on being miserable with your wimpy husband!"

"And leave us to our woe betide."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Ease up on the Shakespeare, #1."

"I guess you haven't read _Othello_. Now there is a man with woe. He's my hero."

Brandy sighed dreamily. "Damon's my hero," she said from Beyond the Frame of the Story.

"And Daemon is mine," replied the other Creator Andrea.

"See, we have fan girls," Damon shouted after Stefan and Elena. "We don't need you."

"How come no one is my fan gir--"

"Because you are a pathetic sap," Damon replied.

"Sorry man," Daymon said as he clapped Deymon on the shoulder.

Daemon grinned. "Hey, you don't have one, either, Daymon #4."

"Yeah, you are a fake character. Now leave us to our--and by 'our' I mean Daemon's--woes."

"The way it should be," said Daemon.

As Elena and Stefan left the room, Daemon looked around the room. "I feel I have made some progress today. Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure."

And that concludes Day 1 of Daemon and Damon's Group Therapy.


End file.
